Eyes Off the Prize
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: Bit of feeble plot here. Hope it doesn't get in the way! The idea seemed worth exploring a little. Jane & Lisbon get their heart's desire as part of a plan. What a great job! One-shot. I don't guess Red John. Warning! This story has strong sexual content. If you don't like that type of material, do not read this! Disclaimer: I don't own anything about The Mentalist.


This funk wasn't particularly distinguishable from any other. It grayed the world and snapped out of his mouth at the slightest provocation. It was irritable, condescending, sarcastic and flippant. Just like any other Patrick Jane funk.

Some said that Jane was just a bastard, a total prick. They sensed the pleasure he took in exposing their harmless everyday hypocrisies as if they were tantamount to perjury or fraud when they were merely social flimflam designed to get an edge over the other guy. Even if they were just goofing around. Law enforcement attracted naturally competitive people at every level, and it showed in everything they did. Jane wasn't law enforcement. He didn't get it.

Jane often initiated these border skirmishes to discharge the self-destructive forces within that constantly eroded his resolve and fuzzed his concentration. They kept the tools of his revenge sharp and ready, cleared his mind and allowed him to focus on his search for Red John and hone his plans for the serial killer's destruction. The fact that he didn't want to do this anymore was the greatest enemy to his resolve.

"Irksome." Teresa Lisbon was standing close, legs apart and arms folded. Her hair bobbed with the accusatory motions of her head. She'd had enough of Jane's mood for today.

Jane slouched sideways at his desk, legs fully extended and feet flat on the floor. Lisbon's feet were parallel to his own, almost touching. She had moved in to make the conversation a little more private.

Jane looked at her. "What?"

"Irksome. You know what that is, right? You, Patrick Jane, are irksome. And insulting. And surly. Waspish, even. What's wrong with you lately?"

He turned his head so he wouldn't have to look directly at her in such close quarters. It was too aggressive and he always backed down from Lisbon when seriously confronted, probably because it was so rare. That was his unexamined view. The real reasons were far more complex and involved deep love and attraction, even gratitude for caring about him, perhaps even loving him, when no one else would. He would neither risk nor betray a gift like that, much as he chafed against any curb or cuff. In a strange way he took it as a sign that his love was not unrequited.

"Serrano's an idiot," he offered.

"Oh. And it's your job to point out every idiocy in every person who says a word in your presence. He's an agent. He deserves respect. Just like any of us."

Jane grimaced. In his face it appeared as a kind of smile. It didn't curl up or light his eyes. It actually set his mouth in a straight line. It was a sign of submission and his eyes showed the dim light of retreat. And if she listened, she could usually hear a slightly creaking groan in his chest, almost subsonic. Lisbon was very well acquainted with the many sounds of Patrick Jane. Honestly, her heart went out to him every time. The latitude she allowed him spoke not only of her regard but also of her understanding of the intelligence that underpinned all his actions.

She stepped back and spoke a little louder so that the rest of the team would know Jane had to face the consequences of his actions, too. "Shape up, Jane, or we'll talk about this again. Sooner, if I get complaints."

Lisbon walked away and didn't see Jane childishly make a face at her. He silently mouthed her scold at her back, Shape up, Jane. Then he added, I'm so scared. She really didn't need to see it to know what was going on. Truthfully, her love for him was soul-searing and not remotely Platonic. But he was having none of it. She called it, sometimes bitterly, 'saving himself for Red John.'

Tapping his fingers flat on the desk a few times, Jane slapped it softly and then got up to go sulk on his couch, ignoring the eyes of his team. He flopped there and laced his fingers together on his stomach, eyes closed. This withdrawal not sufficient, he squirmed to his side to face the back cushions and tucked his hands between his legs above the knees. Maybe he could nap it off.

What he really wanted was to give up. To give up and, more, to move on. If he had just moved on from the murder of his wife and child, in Red John's eyes if he had accepted his punishment however insane and debilitating, he would be a free man today. Instead, he had fixed the attention of their murderer to himself and was now trapped in a game that could only end in the death of one of them.

It was impossible to give up now. Red John delighted in him. But particularly in making his life a living hell by denying him the one balm that could heal his life, a fully developed love connection with another human being. Torturing Patrick Jane was so much more satisfying than killing him.

Lisbon looked into the bullpen before entering her office and closing the door. Sometimes Patrick Jane was as transparent as a child. But his tragedy was too profound to stop at that superficial description. The stink of his dilemma was almost constantly on him. The fear of a trapped animal lashed out in its pain to anyone who happened by, but especially at those who attempted to engage him. Patrick Jane desperately wanted loose from Red John, and he couldn't free himself.

Van Pelt barged into Lisbon's office, eyes as big as saucers. "Boss!"

"Knocking, Van Pelt?"

Van Pelt looked behind her at the open door, seeming to notice for the first time that she was inside the office instead of outside. "Sorry." She smiled at Lisbon with all her teeth, eyes lit like fireflies. "I've got an idea, Boss."

"Wait, Van Pelt." Lisbon slipped behind the desk to her computer and turned up the music program so that she and the other agent could talk with some confidence, just in case the office was bugged.

What Van Pelt explained to Lisbon was nothing short of ingenious. Or at least it would be if it weren't so simple. The technology was not that new, so maybe the expense wouldn't be prohibitive. Too bad her boss, Gale Bertram, was one of the seven Red John suspects. If he was innocent, Bertram would move mountains to finance it anyway, just to cap his career with the biggest, flashiest feather it could hold, the capture of Red John. But they couldn't chance that he would get even an inkling of the plan that was now forming in Lisbon's mind.

There had to be a lure. Something believable and irresistible. Something that would draw the despicable fiend himself and not a minion. She needed to talk to Patrick Jane.

"Hold this close, Van Pelt. Tell no one, not even the team yet. Not even Rigsby." Lisbon looked at Van Pelt meaningfully. The younger woman dropped her eyes and nodded. "Go back to your desk. Erase all evidence of whatever you've researched on this. Then, work on something else. All evidence, Grace. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Boss!"

"Okay. Go. And Grace. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. This gives us a real chance."

Van Pelt flashed a radiant smile and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Lisbon turned down the music and waited impatiently in her office for an interval long enough not to arouse curiosity before she went to get Jane. She opened up a game of solitaire on her computer and forced herself to finish it before leaving her office.

Standing over the bullpen couch, she could hear soft snuffling. Jane was asleep. "Jane." She spoke softly. He didn't stir. Bending down, she shook his shoulder. "Jane! Wake up."

Jane turned sleepily towards her. "Hmph?"

Good lord. The man was delicious to look at even sleep-tossed, maybe especially then! "It's time for us to talk now." She said this loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. She stood, turning away to wait for Jane to get up. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt were in various poses of surreptitious attention, listening to every word.

"What? What about?" This was very unlike Lisbon, taking up an issue that had already been settled. And she'd won! He got up to face her, trying not to look sullen.

"Your behavior. Come with me."

She heard Rigsby issue a quiet sing-song that Jane was in trouble now.

"Rigsby. That's enough or I'll write your name on the damn blackboard!"

He got the elementary school reference, reddened and went back to what he was working on. Tossing cards into a wastebasket for the cheering crowd in his head.

When they left the bullpen, Lisbon told Jane, "We need to go up to your attic to speak."

Jane tried to process this for a reason and came up empty. "Yeah, sure. Okay. I take it this isn't about my behavior after all."

"No. It's more important than that."

When they entered the attic, Lisbon led them to the roof door. "Balcony. And shut the door behind us."

"So cloak and dagger, Lisbon. I'm intrigued." Her demeanor actually raised gooseflesh on his arms. He smirked at the frisson of excitement.

What Lisbon had learned from Van Pelt set Jane's mind to work immediately, silencing any stray thoughts or silly frissons.

"This could work, Lisbon. It will work! With the right bait."

"I know. It's too easy, really."

"No. It won't be easy. The hardest part will be the secrecy. Our only hope is if we don't have to involve anyone other than the team."

Lisbon looked at him, silently amazed to consider the change in Jane over the last six months. He was truly a part of the team and he gave and took within that framework. An warm affection filled her. She knew he had made this change for her. It was part of him learning to be her real partner. He'd taken it on, learned quickly and shown himself to be a man to trust, who trusted her. Far beyond her expectations.

Lisbon returned from her thoughts to Jane looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. But he wasn't just taking her in. He was looking at her with regard, and was that affection, too? Damn! It enraged her when he would seem to be flirting with her! How could he toy with her like that? She knew he had better control. It felt like he was trying to touch her, reach her somehow. She'd like to slap his face, hurt him! This wasn't the time to think about it.

But it was too late. "Ah! Why are you touching me like that?" Something overwhelming had broken open in Lisbon's heart, something waiting to escape. She hated when it did. Its energy was penetrating and golden, its name was love and its object was Patrick Jane.

"What did I touch? I'm just looking at you, Lisbon."

"I meant what are you looking at. I didn't mean touch. Stop looking at me that way! It's a horrible tease. You shouldn't do it."

"I wasn't teasing. I admire you." What an amazing incident!

"Just stop it! We need to focus here, and plan. I don't need you messing with my head."

"I have to say, Lisbon, that wasn't me. That must have been you, messing with your own head." Jane felt sad to see Lisbon fight to shut herself down like that because he knew he had taught her there was nothing on his side. What would happen when they tried to carry out their plan?

"Whatever. Let's figure this out."

The plan was simple. That alone gave them the most hope of its success.

"Who will be the bait?" He knew what the answer had to be, but he needed to know Lisbon saw it, too.

Lisbon looked surprised. "Well, it can't be Grace. We'd need to have too much lead time to build a believable relationship between you two."

"Yeah, and everyone knows she's been in love with Rigsby for years."

"I don't want to bring in an outside party or an undercover on this. It wouldn't be as believable. Or maybe as important. He might just send a minion for someone else. But for me . . . I think he'd come himself. Don't you?"

Jane stared at her, vulnerable, his lips parted to speak, but he wasn't sure what to say. Lisbon was admitting something neither of them had spoken directly about. "Yes." There. He was admitting it, too. It wasn't enough, but it would do for now. The rest of it would have to be cleared up almost immediately anyway. The prospect thrilled him, but he knew it could be very tricky.

He was looking at her that way again. Lisbon frowned. "I mean he's already asked you to kill me and bring my head on a silver platter. So he must think I'm pretty important. As head of the team, I mean."

"Yes. Head of the team. Makes the most sense. But Lisbon, it's awfully dangerous for you." What if she was lost? What if he lost her?

"I'm an officer of the law and facing danger is part of it, Jane. We'll minimize it the best we can. I have to say, I've never had more hope of catching the rat bastard."

Lisbon's mind was racing now. It would take Van Pelt no more than a couple of days to get the RFID tracking dust, maybe sooner. Maybe three days from now the operation would be in effect. The dust would be sprinkled at all the entrances and windows, inside and out, by the beds, etc., any place of frequency. Whoever picked it up would be tracked. Lisbon's condo would be under surveillance. Jane would stay there as part of being Lisbon's lover. Whether Jane or Lisbon lived or died, Red John would be found.

There was one part of the plan that had to start right away. Now it had come to it, Lisbon felt very awkward. "Jane, we have to . . . talk about how we want to play this."

"We have to play it for real, Lisbon. Red John has to believe it. Once he does, he's shown he'll move swiftly."

"Our timing—"

"We have to start right away."

"Team first. We'll coordinate with them."

Just for a moment, that seemed like an invasion of privacy to Jane.

Lisbon called Cho on the cell phone and asked him to bring the team to Jane's rooftop. It seemed like the place least likely to be bugged, although no one could be sure.

-o-

It was a go for the third night. Red John might take longer to show up, but most doubted that. The tracking dust would be in place from that point on. It would take a special intelligence team to do a professional clean up later.

Van Pelt purchased a tablet computer from a retail store with cash, registered it under an assumed name and downloaded the tracking program for the radio frequency identification (RFID) dust. The dust was essentially thousands of electronic tracking chips the size of grains of sand or smaller, all with one ID number and each of which could be tracked wherever they were taken up by someone's shoes or clothing. It was that simple. Getting the dust had been a little convoluted, but not difficult. The stuff of spycraft and espionage, manufacturers sold mostly to clandestine government agencies and the military.

Cho looked at Lisbon. "You two are going to have to get busy right away. We'll stay clear of you as much as possible so you can steal your little moments. Good luck." Cho and the team left.

Jane looked at their boss, admiring her bravery. "You know this could go very badly, Lisbon."

She knew how badly he meant. "I have thought about that. But we have something important to discuss, Jane. What I said about touching a minute ago-"

Jane wanted to ease the pathway for the discussion they were about to have. Those who knew him better might say he wanted to control it. "There's something I need to tell you. Something I want to do. Before we start this and can't turn back."

"I know. Me, too." She looked at Jane and spoke quietly. "No! Don't interrupt! I want to say this. I want you to touch me, Jane, and I want to touch you. I've thought about it for a long time. I think about it all the time. Something happened to me when you were looking at me just then. I got upset and I jumped on you. I'm sorry."

"Something happened, Lisbon? What happened?"

Lisbon's face was bright pink and Jane watched it go even brighter. "Really, Jane . . . I'm not going to start this out with a lie . . . it was like a little . . . orgasm. Something thumped inside me and I lost my train of thought and it was like you touched me. I knew you hadn't, but the feeling made me confuse my words when I said something." She put her hand on Jane's arm. "So, I don't want you to feel conflicted about what we're about to do. You don't have to hold back or feel awkward. It will make me very happy."

"Conflicted, Lisbon? It's my deepest desire to touch you, to hold you, to love you, Teresa. I thought we would never have this chance. The only conflict has ever been putting you in danger. With this plan, we have a real chance." He watched a beautiful shy smile light Lisbon's face. "I can't wait to hold you in my arms."

"We just have to step through this door, Jane. I guess it will be like the land of Oz."

"No. It will be real."

Jane and Lisbon moved into the attic, which certainly had been bugged in the past. Lisbon acted as if she was leaving, but Jane called her back, saying, "Wait, Lisbon, don't go. I have to tell you something! I have to tell you the truth."

Lisbon stopped and turned to face him. "What is it? Jane, if you've been lying to me again—"

"Remember when I said, 'Love you?'

She looked a little scared, as if this was too real to include in their charade. "You know I do. How could I forget?"

"I lied when I said I couldn't remember."

"I know."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"But it did hurt. Lying that you didn't remember hurt the worst!"

Lisbon was in a total pout. He was sure this part was real. "I'm sorry. I've wasted time. And I've loved you a lot longer than that."

Lisbon stared at him. This is moving fast, Jane. "Me, too." She blushed furiously. "I mean, I've loved you for a long time, too, but I wouldn't look at it or listen to it. Anyway, how could I tell you I loved you, after you said you didn't love me."

"I never said I didn't love you, Lisbon."

"Pretending you forgot took care of that!" She was tearing up from the remembered pain.

"It's true. I did my part to make sure you wouldn't tell me." Jane stepped up to Lisbon and brought her into his arms. "We're both fools, Lisbon. But I'm the biggest one."

At first they just rested in the embrace, heads crooked together. Then Jane turned his face to Lisbon's neck and kissed her, tasted her, moved to her throat where her pulse was already pounding.

He whispered in her ear, "Lisbon. This isn't part of the play. Whatever happens, everything I've just said is real. Tell me you understand."

Lisbon whispered back to him, "I understand, Patrick. It's just as real for me." Her next words were like falling off a cliff, but she wanted him to know the fullness of it. "I love you with every breath and every heartbeat. Do you understand?"

Patrick had paused while he caught his breath. She had used his first name. If she had said not one more word, that would have told him everything. "Yes. I understand, Teresa. I'm Patrick, and you love me and I love you."

"Yes. We're going to do two things tonight. Satisfy ourselves for what we've been missing and draw out Red John. Let's give him an eye full." If Red John was watching, that's just what he'd get!

When they kissed, they forgot all about why. And it certainly wasn't an act. Their passions heated fast, Lisbon unbuttoning Patrick's shirt and vest to run her hands on his skin. Patrick did the same to her. Lisbon undid her bra in the back and lifted the cups, allowing her breasts to spring free, nipples erect. She'd played variations of this scenario in her fantasies many times and it was liberating to act one of them out. She wasn't going to waste time being shy about it.

Patrick groaned as if they were something he didn't dare touch, but Teresa took his hand and gently formed it to cup her breast. He immediately bent to kiss and suckle the other one, humming his satisfaction. He rubbed the stiff little nipples repeatedly across his tongue, savoring his own actions.

Teresa wasn't sure she could stand the years-longed-for stimulation. But she definitely didn't want to stop. Patrick tasted sweet, his kisses caressed her mouth and she wanted so many more. She gently pulled her breast from Patrick's mouth with a small suckling pop to push his shirt and vest down his arms. She let him deal with getting them off while she hugged him close and brushed her breasts against him over and over, the skin contact making her senses soar.

A pair of warm little BBs trailed relentlessly across Patrick's chest, cushioned behind by the plump flesh of Teresa's breasts. It was insane that his deepest desires were now being satisfied as an excuse to trap Red John. Only it was real. He wouldn't let himself be confused.

He removed Lisbon's blouse, jacket and bra, taking a minute to just look at her naked from the waist up. Her beautiful form bewitched him and he quickly moved to devour every place he could reach. When he turned her to kiss her shoulders and back, her hips jutted and she backed into him, an invitation to make himself known. This Patrick did, shifting low to press the fullness of his arousal into her backside. He heard her gasp his name. He turned her again to press himself into her belly before he bent to kiss its soft skin.

When his lips reached her navel Patrick put his hand at her waistband, popping the button and zipping the pants down. He skimmed a hand along the outside of Teresa's panties. Her body quivered and she grasped his arm.

Patrick looked at her then, her eyes smoky and full of desire but needing him to slow down just a little. He kissed her gently without removing his hand and she deepened the kiss. Her touch on his arm was lighter now, so he moved it into her open trousers, feeling the shape of her body through her panties. The fullness of her mons thrilled him and he petted it until Teresa whined and breathed his name from deep in her throat. Then he turned his fingers lower and stroked the fleshy creases where they met her legs and then finally the center cleft. Teresa was damp and soft and he longed to be inside her.

Meanwhile Teresa had opened his trousers and now began to fondle him through his briefs, small fingers deft and curious. Everything in his body told him to let go and shoot, drench himself and her hand, but he sublimated that feral thought. There was no doubt he would need release early, but he would revive quickly.

Bringing his hands to her waist, he whispered to Teresa, "I wish our first time wasn't here."

She wrapped her arms around him to say in his ear, "It has to be. And I don't care. I'd do this in an international television simulcast if it would free us. I don't care if the world plays our sex tapes for a thousand years. It will be worth it. I hope Red John is watching live so he can see what two people in love are really like." Out loud she said, "I just want you. Right now!"

Her conviction stunned him and then set a fire in his veins. He knew he would not be able to withstand the passionate onslaught he saw in her eyes. "Teresa, it's been a long time and I'm going to come fast. But we won't stop there."

"That's good, because I want you in my mouth right now and I want to see you come."

Patrick stared at her while his blood boiled uncontrollably to his brain and every extremity, making an agony of what was cramped in his underwear. His next movements were to strip Teresa of the remainder of her clothing, the two of them a tangle of limbs as she did the same with him.

Progress was often slow as places of desire were revealed, demanding attention. Teresa's hip bones, fleshed and shapely. Her mound, plump and lightly covered with soft hair. "A pixie cut for your pussy," Jane whispered, stroking it with his fingertips and making her laugh. Her sleek, petite legs and small feet. Patrick's long, lithe limbs . His large graceful hands undressing her tenderly. His broad chest and powerful shoulders, supporting her as her took down her panties. His thick maleness of him, heavy with blood and bobbing against his belly as he bent to her. Teresa touched the head so tentatively and watched slippery moisture run over the tip.

When they stood naked before each other, minutes lapsed as they filled themselves by touching and exploring with their eyes and fingertips. Patrick turned Teresa around, sliding his hand down the slope of her back, the flare of her hips and cupping the ripe fullness of her backside, eyeing its dimples that he wanted to kiss very soon. When Teresa turned Patrick around, she bent immediately to kiss and fondle the plump rounds of his ass, then reached through to cup and softly brush his balls with her fingers.

"Teresa! Almost now!" She pinched the back of his leg.

"Ow!"

She smiled at him, very satisfied with herself.

"Oh. You minx!"

By that time Teresa was in front, both hands wrapping him and her mouth covering the head of a desperate erection.

"Jesus! You feel so good!"

"You taste so good, Patrick. You're beautiful here!" Her lovemaking was at once tender and ardent. She tickled behind his balls and they drew up as his orgasm began a spasm that left him breathless, his juices streaming down Teresa's hand like creamy lava.

When he trusted himself to walk, Patrick lifted Teresa onto the edge his makeshift bed. Parting her legs and pulling her to the edge, he kissed her center as passionately as if it were her mouth, hands on her hips, bracing her hip bones with his thumbs. She was hyper aroused and sensitive. Soon she was keening her release, fallen back on her elbows and holding her legs wide for Patrick's attentions.

After a few minutes recovery spent kissing and murmuring satisfaction, Teresa jumped down and Patrick pulled the bedding to the floor for them. Patrick was already fully hard again and nearly incapacitated with lust at the thought of joining her body to his. But once they were lying together, partly on the cushion, partly on the blanket-covered floor, he found he wanted to take his time with her. They whispered love and touched each other with wonder and passion. When they joined, it was slowly, savoring every change and move.

Teresa felt herself stretch to accommodate Patrick as he slid like glass along her wet and swollen folds. She contracted almost immediately and arched up. Patrick slowed, wanting her to feel every inch of him. It felt as if hot jelly lined the tight slide into Teresa's velvety grip, squishing him into oblivion.

When Patrick felt close to climax, he gripped Teresa's waist and rolled to his back, delaying his release and allowing her to take control. She was magnificent, towering over him and riding them both to insanity. Orgasm took her breath at first and she froze with an ecstatic smile of pleasure before succumbing to the spasms that gripped Patrick inside her and sent him over the edge, too. He kissed her and caressed her skin as she lay atop him until they both fell into a brief light sleep.

When they stirred again, Teresa giggled. She leaned to whisper, "Some job we have here!"

He rolled his eyes in amusement and said, "The best!"

They eventually walked into the bullpen together. Jane nodded at Cho as they walked by to Lisbon's office. Rigsby and Van Pelt looked a million questions at Cho who said, "Oh yeah. They're doing it."

Rigsby said, "Shit! They did it?"

Van Pelt clasped her hands together and sort of squealed. Cho raised an eyebrow at her. "I can't help it. This needed to happen for so long!"

The two men looked at her like she was a Martian.

They took separate cars home that evening, but met at Teresa's condo. Their lovemaking was loud and frequent, sure to alert the neighbors that the nice agent lady had a vigorous new boyfriend.

Patrick got to kiss those dimples at Teresa's fanny. He licked and nibbled them to her shocking cries of passion. He almost stopped because it sounded like he was killing her, but she begged him to keep going. When he tweaked her nipples at the same time, she came in a howling orgasm that left her a happily groaning wreck. Patrick was in awe of his fortune, to be paired with a woman that sexually sensitive.

Work the next day was interesting. Wherever one of them walked, whispers and consultations ensued. The rumor mill was doing its job. By the end of the day, they had been called to Director Bertram's office. Several CBI personnel stationed themselves strategically to hear and see what they could, ready to report back to their colleagues.

It couldn't have been better when that consultant, Patrick Jane, stormed out of the Director's office and slammed the door, yelling, "Yes, I'm fucking her. And I hope I'm doing a damn fine job of it!" He was heard muttering, "God damn busybodies!" as he went down the hallway and closed himself into Agent Lisbon's office. She hustled out red-faced minutes later, hurried into her office and locked the door behind her.

Patrick and Teresa couldn't laugh openly. Teresa managed, "Really, Patrick? I hope I'm doing a damn fine job of fucking her?"

"Well, I think I have been, no?"

"Oh, a very good job! Our asses are so fired."

"I just want to be together, that's all. And it's nobody else's damn business. We've waited long enough."

There was a knock at the door. When Van Pelt was admitted, she set a small box on Lisbon's desk. She turned, grinning and going up and down on her toes. Patrick and Teresa looked at each other. Patrick rolled his eyes and said, "Glee. That's glee."

Lisbon said, "That's enough, Van Pelt." She stepped in to say quietly, "This is the job, right?

"Right, Boss. Sorry."

"Thanks. You may have saved all our asses, Grace. We owe you."

"That's all right, Boss." She grinned ear to ear at each of them in turn, waggling her eyebrows at Jane suggestively. Jane's forehead furrowed over an arched eyebrow. Van Pelt turned and bounced out of the room.

Jane said, "I think she thinks we're going steady."

"Oh, let her have her fun. She's young and she's been through a lot already. She wants a happy ending. So do I." Teresa turned to Patrick for a kiss.

Patrick and Teresa were not the same people. Not just because they had finally broken through their emotional and physical barriers to be together. It was that they had joined under the most dire risk imaginable. They might die, but their happiness would last until that instant. To have denied their ecstasy together, that was death. In that sense they had already lived death. Instead, they soared in light like butterflies, who respond to darkness but do not live their real lives there.

They took the box to Lisbon's condo, sprinkled the fairy dust around as instructed and settled in for an evening of frequent and extended lovemaking. There was much lost time to redeem, and the possibility of losing all time. It liberated their eroticism and tore their inhibitions to the ground. They slept like cherubs in a wrecked cloud of bedding and feasted when their lovemaking cycles had burned all resources. They did not go in to work the next day.

Teresa's complexion was pink and ivory, her freckles like flecks of pale milk chocolate settled on cream. Her eyes were bright emeralds and her lips crushed cherries because Patrick couldn't stop kissing them. He'd taken to finger-daubing them with clear gloss in atonement. Her petite form with its ripe hips tantalized Patrick incessantly. Love suited her like nothing else in her life and Patrick found her to be as luscious and juicy as sun-hot peaches.

Patrick moved like an otter in bed, sleek and swift, flexible and powerful. His skin was satin over smooth muscle, lean enough to show its definition, soft and hydrated. His new regimen had melted him lean. He fairly danced in his graceful body. Stress lines had disappeared from a face now accented by multitudes of laugh lines that formed and broke like tiny waves every waking moment. His smile was wide, infectious and likely to turn into kisses without notice. He was manna to Teresa and his attentive love seemed to give her health.

Each found the other utterly irresistible and had a hand on one another somewhere almost without fail. Luckily there were no third shift workers trying to get their sleep in adjacent apartments today as Patrick and Teresa pursued their noisy satisfaction. They slept several hours in the mid-afternoon, showered and ate, then began a new cycle of lovemaking.

At about two in the morning, Grace detected the RFID chips moving from around a window to the front of the condo, where more were picked up and taken two streets away, apparently to a waiting vehicle, and then returned. It had to be Red John, prowling to decide where to make his entrance.

Cho and Rigsby were parked in separate impound lot vehicles nearby when she texted them. Before they could make a move, Homeland Security agents were tapping the CBI agents' windows to stop them from intercepting their quarry. They had started following the team's activities when alerted that someone had downloaded the RFID dust tracking program. DHS moved in and apprehended the suspect. His tools and implements marked him as Red John, as would other identifying material in Homeland Security's possession. Apparently too narcissistic to consider that he could be caught, Red John had no poison pill for himself. In a struggle for an agent's gun, he was shot and killed, his body taken away.

Patrick and Teresa were engaged in mutual oral play and knew nothing until hours later when Lisbon got up and checked her phone, still on the kitchen table on vibrate. At the moment of Red John's apprehension, Teresa was tongue-sucking all over Patrick's male anatomy, relishing the sensations where the tip attached to the shaft, a wonderfully sensitive striation that made Patrick quiver in her mouth. Patrick was creating a matching effect on the silken skin of the inner surfaces of her labia. Teresa came, sliding firmly against Patrick's mouth and lips.

She took her mouth off Patrick. "Not yet. Not yet, " she pleaded. "Come inside me. I want to come again with you."

Patrick righted himself on the bed. Smoothing her hair from her cheeks, he kissed the crushed cherry lips and pulled her onto her side to face him. Then he lifted her leg at the knee until he could see the pink of her entrance. He couldn't wait to get inside her, resting her small foot on his hip so that he could guide himself in.

The first flush of her warmth made him thrust deep and she met him with a sigh. He slipped his leg between hers and leveling his hips a bit, wedged slowly in, swelled enough to feel the rings of smooth muscle as he moved in her.

Teresa positioned her body according to his lead and soon lay breathless as he slow-fucked her into orgasm. It carried her like a swell in the ocean, gently passing her into the crest. It was soothing for her and irresistible for Patrick as he watched the bliss radiate from Teresa's face. He said, "Teresa! So beautiful!" and emptied himself into her, cupping the breast of the woman he loved as he had loved no other. Teresa felt the warmth as he flooded her yet again.

Grace saw a batch of RFID chips move from the bedroom to the kitchen. Someone was up and would surely check their phone. It was time to shut down the program and let the new couple have their well-earned privacy. The clean-up team would come in a couple days. Every single chip could never be removed. They were too tiny to manage that well. But without the program to track and identify them, they were worthless and harmless, just dirt in the carpet, soil in the lawn. Eventually they would lose their charge or be buried, either way to become inert and useless. Grace smiled sleepily and prepared to go home and to bed, waiting to be taken into the arms of her own lover who waited there. Her sweet heart sang happily for Boss and Jane.


End file.
